


Is Doing The Right Thing Meant To Feel So Bad?

by Badgersprite



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 06:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8612407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badgersprite/pseuds/Badgersprite
Summary: Maggie hasn’t heard from Alex since the kiss and the lack of contact is driving her up the wall. Eventually, she has enough and confronts Alex at her apartment to make sure their friendship is still intact.





	

 

 

Maggie checked her phone for what must have been the fifteenth time in five minutes, impatiently scrolling through her messages, just in case. Her fingers on her left hand rapped against the bar, while the jukebox cycled through Dolly Parton’s greatest hits, as per the norm.

 

The truth was, Maggie couldn’t stop thinking about Alex. Specifically, the kiss. Every time that thought popped into her head, she checked her phone. It was the only thing that kept her busy enough to distract her from it.

 

Nope. Still nothing. No answers. No responses. Only her own texts from the last several days stared back at her, filling the entire screen several times over.

 

‘Are you sure you’re okay? I can call if you need me to.’

 

‘Hey, how are you after last night? You kind of rushed out before I could make sure everything was alright.’

 

‘Can you please reply back or give me a call when you get time? I don’t want to leave things in a weird place between us.’

 

‘Danvers?’

 

‘You aren’t mad at me are you?’

 

That was about the point where Maggie had elected to stop bringing up the subject, sensing it might be contributing to Alex’s evasiveness. Acting as though everything was normal had seemed like her best shot at making it so.

 

‘I’m ready to win my money back, if you’re up for a game. Drinks are on me.’

 

’Got any interest in helping me identify an alien blood sample, Danvers?’

 

’You know, I was expecting you to show up. Not J'onn. But okay. I get it.’

 

Except Maggie clearly hadn’t gotten the hint, because she’d kept texting.

 

’We’re really going to stop working together?’

 

’If you’re ignoring me, I think that’s a pretty solid sign we need to have a conversation about this.’

 

‘This is homophobic.’

 

‘Not answering my texts, I mean.’

 

‘Seriously. Look it up. This is like the dictionary definition.’

 

’Come hang out with me. I promise I won’t bite.’

 

’I’m at the bar right now if you want to talk. Or not talk. It’s up to you.’

 

She’d sent that last text about half an hour ago. Maggie didn’t know why she expected anything to change. This was the fourth straight day that Alex had maintained total silence with her.

 

If the goal was to get under her skin, it was fucking working. That was the most disconcerting part. How could something so simple affect her so profoundly?

 

Ordinarily, Maggie supposed she would have just washed her hands of it. If Alex was going to shut her out, then that was her choice. Maggie had long since learned that wasting her time trying to change how others perceived her was an exercise in futility. Not to say that it never hurt when people held a negative view of her, but she didn’t see the sense in stewing on matters beyond her control.

 

Accordingly, Maggie was well aware that she shouldn’t have let this bother her, but it did, in contrast to her typical attitude, because, unfortunately, she couldn’t simply write it off as Alex being petty and immature. That wasn’t Alex’s nature.

 

No. Instead, Maggie was worried that something had shifted irreversibly, and this was the one time she couldn’t accept that it potentially wasn’t within her power to shift it back. Because, if it wasn’t, then Maggie might be staring at her phone waiting for a response from Alex for an awfully long time. Maybe forever.

 

She couldn’t claim this wasn’t her doing, either, nor dismiss Alex’s reaction, because Maggie sympathised with it. Alex was going through a very difficult time in her life. Discovering her sexuality. Radically reassessing her self-image. Connecting with a long-buried facet of her identity. Coming out.

 

It was completely understandable why Alex had reached out and clung to Maggie and become so caught up in these overwhelming new feelings. Whether she realised it or not, she’d likely tied her hopes and dreams, if not her very sense of self to the prospect of ending up with her. Maggie had tried her best to be sensitive to Alex’s tumultuous emotional state and to put the brakes on things as gently as possible but, evidently, it had not been gently enough.

 

Beyond anything else, that was why this silence was so unsettling, and why Maggie couldn’t simply overlook it; every second that went by without hearing from her was a constant reminder of just how badly Alex must have been hurt.

 

Maggie sighed, hoping she hadn’t destroyed what she had with Alex altogether. That prospect troubled her more than anything had in a long time. These past four days had been a perfect introductory trial run to acquaint Maggie with precisely how miserable her life would be if she’d lost Alex’s friendship permanently.

 

“Why do you keep looking when you know it hasn’t buzzed?” asked M'gann from her spot behind the bar, prompting Maggie to glance up. “Hoping to will a response into existence?”

 

“…Something like that, I guess,” Maggie replied, not wanting to tell her the real reason. That thought stirred her memory of the kiss once more, bringing it to the forefront of her mind. Accordingly, Maggie stared at the screen again.

 

As part of her effort to banish those recurring thoughts, Maggie pondered whether she should send another message or if she’d hit her limit of how many consecutive texts she could send in this span of time without sounding obsessive. A few moments later, her phone locked itself due to inactivity. Maggie reluctantly set it down on the counter rather than putting it back in her pocket. There was no use in pretending she wasn’t going to keep reaching for it.

 

“That’s a bad look,” M'gann commented, reading her expression.

 

“That’s my face,” Maggie retorted, dodging the issue as she took a sip of her beer, which wasn’t the first she’d ordered that night. “Thanks for the insecurity.”

 

“No, it’s not,” M’gann stated, undeterred, ignoring Maggie’s attempt to deflect with sarcasm. “I’ve known you a while and, short of cloning or a twin I don’t know about, I’m not sure how you went from being the woman who started shit by flirting with ten different girls in the same night—”

 

“Okay, it was, like, five in as many hours,” Maggie defended herself. At least that was what she remembered. Her memory of that night was kind of fuzzy.

 

“—and from being the woman who played tonsil hockey with Darla under the dartboard to teach her English to being the woman who sits and drinks alone at the bar because she’s waiting for someone who’s not calling and can’t pretend she doesn’t care if that call never comes,” M’gann concluded her observation, waiting for Maggie to fill in the blanks as to how she’d gone from A to B.

 

“Yeah, well, then you also know how great that prior behaviour has panned out for me,” Maggie muttered with a faintly resigned smirk. “I’m past it. I’m done.”

 

“So you’d rather just sit here and mope? That’s constructive,” M'gann pointed out.

 

“I’m not moping. I’m just…internalising. Introspect…ing. Introspect is not a verb, but it should be,” Maggie thought aloud, her fingers toying with the neck of her half-empty beer. “You know what it’s like when society looks at you as an other; you aren’t exactly encouraged to freely externalise all of your emotions.”

 

“Well, you’re not an other here,” M'gann reminded her, briefly glancing past her at the diverse alien patrons that filled the bar. “…Okay, technically, as a human, you are, but you get my meaning,” M'gann added. Maggie couldn’t disagree with that. She’d practically been raised in the alien community since coming to National City about a decade ago. “If there’s one place where you’re safe to vent and let your frustrations out, it’s here. So go ahead.”

 

Maggie pursed her lips, her eyes falling on an empty glass beside her. She gently poked it, tipping it over onto its side to expel some facet of her irritation.

 

“What are you, a cat?” M’gann said with an amused snort.

 

Following that, Maggie instantly straightened the glass back up, regretting her moment of pettiness in knocking it over, even if nothing had been damaged in the process. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. But I just feel like crap,” Maggie acknowledged, the tone of a groan underscoring her words.

 

“Relationship drama will do that to you,” M'gann nonchalantly commented, clearing the empty glass from the counter. “You should be familiar with that by now.”

 

“No. This isn’t about a relationship,” Maggie insisted. M'gann arched a sceptical eyebrow in her direction. “What? It’s not. I’m single.” Maggie shrugged somewhat uneasily, grabbing her beer and taking a swig.

 

“It’s Alex, isn’t it?” said M'gann, not even needing to ask the question. Maggie’s refusal to meet M'gann’s gaze as she put her beer bottle back down was confirmation enough. “…Look, I can’t feign ignorance and pretend I don’t understand why you turned her down, because I actually do.”

 

“Good,” Maggie mumbled. At least she wouldn’t have to defend her intentions.

 

“Can I tell you something, though?” M'gann asked. Despite minor reservations about what advice she might receive, Maggie gestured for her to go ahead. “When I met J'onn, you have no idea how scared I was. I ran off because I was terrified of what he would think, knowing someone like me survived instead of his family. I chose to push him away and make him hate me rather than let him come to that conclusion on his own. I still worry about it, sometimes.”

 

“But that’s not the same thing,” Maggie quietly interjected, shaking her head, not wanting to diminish M'gann’s experiences as the last daughter of Mars by pretending they were remotely comparable to something as mundane and insignificant as Maggie’s problems. “I’m not pushing Alex away. We’re great friends. I don’t have enough of those. I want things to stay that way.”

 

“Are you really going to tell me you don’t feel some kind of spark there? At all?” M'gann inquired, sincerely doubting that, judging by her stare.

 

Maggie didn’t respond to that question. That wasn’t the issue. Regardless of what she did or didn’t feel for Alex, being with her was a terrible idea, especially at this point in time. Rushing into something that was doomed to fail like all of her past relationships would only ruin what they already had with one another.

 

There was no shortage of women in the world Maggie could feel attracted to and go out on dates with or even sleep with. Contrary to popular belief, there was nothing inherently special about any of those things. But Alex was different.

 

What she had with Alex was more than that. More than sex. More than dating. Not that the chemistry for either of those things wasn’t there, or that it couldn’t be, but that it was almost superfluous. They hadn’t formed their bond out of a desire or expectation that they would hook up someday, hence their bond wouldn’t be diminished without that chemistry. Right?

 

That was the thing. Maggie couldn’t say that about her other relationships. Not that she’d never had friends. Of course she did. But her other friends were people she never had any serious romantic or sexual chemistry with in the first place.

 

Her string of exes, on the other hand? Maggie had never been friends with any of them before they dated. Their relationships were built on that chemical spark that inevitably faded. When it did, nothing remained in its wake. Their very foundation ebbed into dust, because there was no deeper basis on which they cared for each other, even if Maggie dared to hope otherwise sometimes. Perhaps that was why her exes invariably got so angry with her, blaming her for no longer inspiring the feelings they had once shared when they weren’t there anymore.

 

It hurt, yeah. Sometimes more than others. But, in a way, for most of her life, Maggie had learned to cope with it. Maybe it helped because all that was destroyed was that relationship, not anything that came before.

 

Alex wasn’t like that. With Alex, Maggie had something to lose.

 

If anything, casting their relationship into the disastrous dumpster fire that was Maggie’s lovelife would be selling what she felt for Alex short, not the other way around. It was worth preserving and protecting as it was.

 

At least, that was how it felt on Maggie’s end. Perhaps she could express it clearer without the alcohol, but she’d come to the same conclusion when she was sober too. Maybe Alex saw their connection differently, though. Maybe she didn’t care to maintain it at all if it couldn’t be romantic. Maggie hoped that wasn’t the case. If it was, she would have gravely misjudged Alex as a person.

 

Wow. That would have been…disappointing.

 

Following her silence, M'gann exhaled and stepped back from the bar. “You know what? You’re going to have to sort this out on your own. I’m not an advice dispenser; I serve drinks,” said M'gann, seeing she had no option but to wash her hands of this if Maggie wasn’t going to listen to her.

 

“No, but you are a good friend,” Maggie replied, genuinely meaning that. “Thanks.”

 

Her comment did elicit a smile from M'gann. “Don’t think you’re going to charm your way into getting free drinks, though. I’m not as easily seduced as the waitresses,” M’gann jokingly chastised her.

 

“Ouch.” Maggie feigned hurt. “Friendship rescinded.”

 

“Friends help friends pay their bills,” M'gann remarked. “Speaking of which, I have work to do.” With a departing wink, M’gann went to the far end of the counter to serve another customer, leaving Maggie to her contemplations.

 

Maggie’s eyes fell back to her phone, sitting there on the counter, unmoving. Still no messages. She wasn’t surprised. The only thing giving her hope that Alex hadn’t switched her phone off altogether was that she couldn’t afford to do so, lest she miss a call from the DEO. Knowing she wasn’t speaking into an empty void made Maggie feel slightly better, though not much, because that meant Alex was aware of her texts and deliberately not responding to them.

 

Why? How upset or pissed off did Alex have to feel that she wasn’t even allowing Maggie a chance to make things better? After four days?

 

Unable to resist any longer, Maggie picked up her phone one last time, desperate to do something to hear from Alex, in the hopes it would vanquish that awful tension building in her chest before it grew too potent to withstand.

 

’Alex, please talk to me.’

 

She let those words linger on her screen for several seconds, wondering if she was crossing some kind of invisible line by exposing her vulnerability like that – to show just how much it was eating away at her not to have Alex in her life over these past few days. Nevertheless, Maggie hit send.

 

It turned out, it didn’t matter. Alex still didn’t reply.

 

* * *

 

Maggie glanced down at her feet, hardly able to believe she was doing this. She felt like a damn stalker. Alex might even concur. Regardless, she summoned the courage to knock on the door, her other hand resting on her hip.

 

“Danvers?” she called out, unsure if Alex was home yet, but not willing to leave until she saw her. “If you’re there, open up.”

 

No response. Maggie tilted her head to listen for any movement inside. Nothing.

 

She drew back, exhaling. Either Alex was going to drastic lengths to hide from her, or she wasn’t there. Maggie stuck both hands in her pockets and leaned back against the wall next to the door to Alex’s apartment, committed to seeing this through before she would allow herself to call it a day and go home. One way or another, she was going to break down this communication barrier.

 

It was driving her crazy, to be shut out in the cold like this. She was getting distracted at work, unable to focus without creeping thoughts of Alex and how she was or wasn’t coping entering her mind. She kept replaying the things she’d said over in her head, wondering what she could have done to avoid this. Most of all, any fragment of peace she found lately was swiftly disturbed by the thought that she might already be too late to salvage their friendship.

 

What if Alex had only been spending time with her out of some latent desire to get into her pants? What if Maggie had said or done something to lead her on without meaning to? What if Alex felt too hurt and betrayed to ever forgive her?

 

No. Surely not. Alex wasn’t like that. Was she? Admittedly, Maggie had only known her for a few weeks, but Alex struck her as the type of person who was more likely to blame herself than to blame others when things went awry.

 

…Honestly, that knowledge didn’t serve as any comfort. Because, if Alex was in that kind of state, suffering with sadness to the point where she was too wounded to even speak to her, then that was Maggie’s fault. She’d caused that. And, ironically, that was precisely what she’d been trying to avoid by choosing not to take their relationship down the rocky road of romance in the first place.

 

Nevertheless, this was why Maggie had to at least make a genuine attempt to fix things. She couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she got shut down and told to go away, that would be an improvement over where she currently stood. It would answer some questions, after all, like just how bad things were with Alex.

 

Great, Maggie thought; even that attempt at optimism was laden with pessimism. That was a solid indicator of how much Alex’s absence was affecting her.

 

Ugh. This was so unlike herself. It was weird.

 

It was a few minutes before she glimpsed a figure stepping into the corridor out of the corner of her eye. Maggie instantly glanced up. Sure enough, it was Alex. Looking at her phone. Reaching for her keys in her bag. Coming towards her.

 

Then Alex lifted her head.

 

They locked eyes. Alex froze in place, stunned.

 

“Hey, Danvers,” said Maggie, wearing a relaxed smirk. Honestly, despite the circumstances that had kept them apart, simply seeing her again sent a wave of relief through her system. She wasn’t dead, for one. “Miss me?”

 

Alex stared at Maggie for a long, unbroken moment before averting her gaze. “I can’t believe you seriously looked up my apartment to find me,” she muttered amid a huff, fumbling for her keys as she swiftly brushed past her. Alex hunched up her shoulders as she strode by Maggie, as if making herself smaller would convince the universe to enable her to disappear from reality entirely.

 

“It’s a nice building, by the way. Makes mine look like crap. Shouldn’t be surprised; you have got the perks of that sweet federal money,” Maggie teased, enjoying the chance to playfully poke fun at that fact again.

 

She did notice one corner of Alex’s lips almost curl into a smile at that remark as she met her eyes, but it quickly subsided. Alex cleared her throat, unable to maintain Magge’s gaze for more than a few seconds before discomfort took hold. “Yeah, you love bringing that up, but that doesn’t explain why you’re here,” she said. “Call me crazy, but I don’t suppose you just wanted a tour.”

 

“You may not have noticed, but I tried texting you,” Maggie casually replied, hands still in her pockets as she watched Alex resume searching her bag for her keys. “Given that I just saw you using it, I’m guessing your phone isn’t broken.”

 

“I’ve…been busy. I had a lot to think about,” Alex spoke distractedly.

 

Maggie didn’t need to be a detective to tell that excuse was bogus. “You know, if you’d said you wanted time and space away from me, that would be something.”

 

“Can I tell you that now?” Alex grumbled in mild exasperation, fingers unsteadily struggling with her keys, putting the wrong one into the lock the first time around. “Agh. Damn it. This isn’t the world’s most convenient time, Sawyer.”

 

“Yes, you can,” Maggie guaranteed, taking it in stride. She’d been prepared to face that outcome. “If that’s what you need, I’ll go; I’ll leave you alone.”

 

“No. No, it’s fine. I don’t want you to…I didn’t…I didn’t mean that,” Alex anxiously insisted, finally managing to unlock her door, though she chose not to head inside. “Everything is fine. Let’s just…I’d rather just pretend it never happened. It obviously was a mistake. So let’s…Can we just not talk about it?”

 

“It?” Maggie repeated, slightly uncertain. “You mean the ignoring me part, or…?”

 

“The other thing,” Alex clarified, her skin already flushed with apprehension.

 

“Sure. If it makes you more comfortable, I’m fine not talking about it. But if you don’t want to talk to me at all anymore, that’s kind of a problem I need to be able to address,” Maggie pointed out. After all, there was more at stake than even their friendship; they worked together. “Or don’t I deserve that?”

 

Alex paused, uttering a shaky sigh. Her nerves were palpable.

 

“Look, if you’re afraid of how I’m going to react, don’t be,” Maggie continued, realising she’d done the right thing by coming here in person. It didn’t seem like there was any speedier way they were going to move past this. “I…I don’t feel weird about it at all. If anything, I’m flattered that you’re into me,” she said, endeavouring to reassure Alex and get things back to normal between them.

 

In reply, Alex sent her a dark look out of the corners of her eyes.

 

“…That sounded douchey; I’m sorry,” Maggie acknowledged, realising that Alex did not want to have her deepest, most personal emotions brushed off as mere ‘flattery’. “What I mean to say is that is that nothing has to be awkward because of this. It certainly isn’t on my end. I’m not judging you here.”

 

“I know. I know you’re not. You’re great,” Alex uttered guiltily, though regardless of those presumably sincere assurances, she seemed to be incapable of looking in Maggie’s direction, instead focusing on her fingers against the door handle.

 

“And yet you haven’t responded to my texts in almost a week,” Maggie replied. Things obviously couldn’t be that great.

 

“Gee, I wonder why I wouldn’t be jumping for joy at the thought of seeing you after that,” Alex shot back with a humourless sort of laugh, turning towards her. Maggie had to admit, her comments kind of deserved that response. “It’s not that I don’t want to speak to you, I just…” Alex trailed off, running a hand through her hair and swallowing. “I can’t. I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t right now.”

 

“Why not?” Maggie asked, almost reflexively, determined to fix it.

 

“Because I still have to deal with this – how it feels to…bare your heart to someone and realise you…” Alex couldn’t finish that sentence, stopping to try and quell the tears gathering in her eyes, bringing them back under control. “I’m not saying you didn’t have every right to tell me no, because you did. And I accept that. I’m not going to…fight it,” Alex went on, doing her utmost to keep her voice even and steady, with limited success. “But you broke my heart.”

 

Maggie’s shoulders sank, sensing the pain that burgeoned in Alex’s throat. Her chest constricted at the stark realisation that it was a pain she had put there. Her conscience refused to let her forget it.

 

“Every time you texted me, or I thought about seeing you again, all it did was send me back to that moment when I…” The words caught in her throat. Alex couldn’t even say that she’d kissed her. “I’d sit there replaying it over in my head, reliving every second of that…that…rejection. So I couldn’t,” Alex confessed, having nowhere left to hide from the truth.

 

Maggie didn’t interrupt. She noticed the way Alex toyed with her hands, unable to keep her fingers still, shifting the weight between her feet, moving to expel some trace of those no doubt horrible feelings that relentlessly squirmed inside her. Fear. Anxiety. Tension. Regret. Self-hatred. Despair.

 

It hit Maggie then how brave Alex was to be capable of talking to her at all, given her current state, let alone that she was doing so with such honesty.

 

“I want to be over this; I want to be past it, but I’m not yet,” Alex went on, helpless to remedy that heartache. “I can’t go around pretending I feel fine and that nothing has changed when it hurts to think of you, let alone look at you.”

 

“And I don’t want you to be hurt,” Maggie insisted without reservation, stepping away from the wall and moving closer, though Alex shrank away from her. “I don’t want to lose you over this. So let’s try and sort this out,” Maggie offered, with no hidden ulterior motives or intentions. “We’re speaking now, aren’t we? Why stop?”

 

Her request was met by a brief hesitation, the conflict etched on Alex’s expression conveying the entire untold story in her head. Despite her misgivings, Alex reluctantly opened her door and gestured for Maggie to step inside.

 

“Thanks,” said Maggie, appreciating that this wasn’t easy for her.

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t want all my neighbours hearing us in the hallway, so…” Alex didn’t finish that, trailing off and shrugging gloomily, closing the door behind them as they stepped into her apartment. “What did you want to talk about?” she mumbled listlessly. Evidently she wanted this to be over quickly. It seemed like even being near Maggie was physically wounding her, which wasn’t surprising.

 

“For starters, are you okay?” asked Maggie, looking into Alex’s eyes, even if she appeared determined to avoid her gaze. “I’ve been kind of worried about you.”

 

Alex snorted at that. “Define 'okay’,” she said, putting down her keys and taking off her jacket. Maggie didn’t know if it was appropriate to make herself comfortable. This might not last long. Accordingly, she remained standing. “Have you ever had your heart broken?” Alex asked.

 

“Yeah, I have. And I’ve probably been dumped more times than you’ve fought aliens,” Maggie answered frankly, understanding why Alex was acting so closed off. “It…freakin’ sucks,” she confirmed, empathising completely. Alex did muster a faint hint of an agreeable response to that, which indicated she’d said the right thing. “I hate the idea that I did that to you.”

 

“Look, I don’t want you to think…” Alex hesitated yet again, catching herself, as if choosing her approach carefully. “I’m not some selfish ass, okay? It’s not…I’m not mad at you because you don’t like me back, and I’m not punishing you for it by not answering your texts. That wasn’t…”

 

“I didn’t assume you were,” Maggie chimed in when Alex fell silent, thinking a little encouragement might make this easier for her to say out loud. Alex sighed heavily, vexed with her nerves. “It’s okay,” Maggie assured her, perfectly content to let her take as long as she needed to get these troublesome words out.

 

“No, it’s not,” said Alex, stepping forward. “You were right. I should have told you I needed some space when you were asking me how I was. But I was so embarrassed and afraid of talking to you that I just couldn’t respond.”

 

“And I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” Maggie said sincerely.

 

“Then here you are apologising to me even though it’s not your fault. You shouldn’t do that, because you have nothing to be sorry for,” Alex insisted, refusing to let Maggie feel guilty for turning her down. “You don’t owe me anything just because I fell for you, and I stupidly fooled myself into believing you might—”

 

“You’re not stupid,” Maggie quietly cut her off, unable to tacitly condone such unkindness. “Please don’t say that you are or beat yourself up over this. That’s not fair on you. You’ve…been through a hell of a thing, you know? I was there once. A lot earlier than you were, sure, but I remember exactly what it was like, and how many others I’ve seen go through the same things,” she said, remorse creeping into her features. “That’s part of why I do feel like I owe you an apology.”

 

“But you don’t,” Alex protested.

 

“I do,” Maggie softly asserted, taking responsibility. It wasn’t something she did often, but she didn’t want to keep being the woman who made excuses when things went wrong in her personal life. She was past that; she was done repeating the same mistakes while expecting different results.

 

“I’ve…been around the block more than you have,” Maggie continued, finding it difficult to be so serious when she was normally the one nonchalantly brushing things off with humour. But this warranted it. Alex warranted it. She was important to her. “It’s…I’m in a position where it’s a lot easier for me to detach myself and…see things from that perspective. I didn’t do a good job of…I could have handled it better,” she concluded, recognising those failings.

 

Alex squinted at her, confused by her vagueness. “What do you mean?”

 

“We should have…had these conversations sooner. I could have…seen where this was headed, and expressed my intentions more clearly, whether from the outset or…after,” Maggie explained, owning her role in creating this mess.

 

“How so?” Alex asked, not sure how Maggie expected any of that to make a difference. “It was me. I assumed that you felt the same way about me without asking. I should have realised you don’t like me like that.”

 

“That’s not what I said,” Maggie stated rather firmly, correcting that misapprehension. Judging by her expression, Alex seemed to think she’d misspoken, but Maggie didn’t let herself get steered too far off course by that potential detour. “See, this is what I mean when I say I messed up, because this has nothing to do with whether or not I like you. If anything, it’s because I care about you this much that I don’t want to go there with you.”

 

Alex peered at her curiously. “No offence, but that sounds like one of those fake things people say to be comforting when they don’t mean it but don’t want to hurt the other person’s feelings.” Maggie shrugged. In this case, it was true. “How does that even make sense?” asked Alex, appearing totally lost.

 

“Because us being together is not a good idea,” Maggie answered, hoping she could convince Alex to understand the truth behind her reasoning now that she had more time to spell it out. “These first relationships don’t work out.”

 

“Says who?” Alex challenged, her posture guarded, which indicated she definitely still suspected Maggie’s words were nothing more than empty platitudes designed to trick her into believing this heartbreak wasn’t so bad.

 

“Reality, and a lot of history,” Maggie replied, citing her sources. After a moment, she moved to join Alex at the kitchen counter, leaning against the far end of it. “Look, don’t take this to sound condescending, because that’s not what this is, but you’re new to this. In terms of the gay community, you’re…young, okay? Being in your late twenties doesn’t change that,” she began.

 

“That doesn’t make me naïve,” Alex protested, her voice low.

 

“No, not necessarily,” Maggie concurred, although she could have argued otherwise. Somehow, she doubted Alex would have taken that well. She already seemed resistant enough to the prospect of having all of this 'gaysplained’ to her, no matter how accurate Maggie’s learned wisdom was. “But it does mean you’re still figuring out who you are,” she noted, and that fact couldn’t be disputed by anyone, even Alex. “You don’t…need me making things more convoluted.”

 

“You don’t convolute things. You’re…you’re my clarity,” Alex avowed, pleading with Maggie to see that. “I might never have figured out who I was if I hadn’t met you.”

 

“That’s…yeah, I get that,” Maggie confirmed, nodding her head, putting on a brave face. Alex didn’t seem to realise that her assertion didn’t make her sound like the exception, but rather the very rule Maggie was trying to avoid adhering to. “It’s why I don’t want to take advantage of your feelings.”

 

“Advantage?” Alex echoed, her shocked and baffled expression matching the way her whole body practically recoiled at that term. “What? You think I’m…vulnerable? That I’m just…confused? You’re the one who told me this is real!” she reminded her, poking her finger in Maggie’s direction.

 

“Your sexuality is,” Maggie affirmed, watching Alex step away and move deeper into her apartment, as if needing space to process what she was hearing.

 

“…But my feelings for you aren’t?” Alex filled in the blank, casting an affronted look back over her shoulder. Maggie only turned up her hands in response. She didn’t know. Neither of them could, at this stage. That was the point. Alex scoffed, visibly wounded. “How can you say that?”

 

“Because I’m not a new gay,” Maggie told her plainly. “I’ve been here before, in person and as a spectator. I wasn’t exaggerating before; rushing into a relationship with the first person you fall for never works out. Ever.”

 

“So I won’t rush you,” Alex pledged, gesturing as she spoke. “I’m sorry I did. I know I messed up, and that you just got out of a relationship. But that doesn’t mean we can’t take things slow. I mean, if…if…if you…if you wanted that,” she stammered, trying hard to contain her emotions. Her pulse must have been racing.

 

“Alex, it’s not just about that,” Maggie went on, a hint of a frustration underscoring her voice. Obviously she wasn’t phrasing her reasons properly, since her efforts to smooth things out with Alex were proving unpersuasive.

 

“Then what is it about?” Alex asked, with a perplexed type of laugh that bore no hint of levity. “Because, right now, I haven’t got a clue what the problem is.”

 

“Me,” Maggie confessed upfront, seeing no point in pretending otherwise. Alex blinked, taken aback. “Me being your first choice. Your first girlfriend.” Maggie shook her head at that very thought. “I’m not a catch, Danvers.”

 

“You are to me,” Alex spoke, surprising herself with her unfiltered response.

 

“Because I’m the first woman you fell for,” Maggie reiterated the central issue around which all other issues revolved, like satellites in orbit. “Everything you’re feeling is raw and intense and probably a thousand times stronger than anything you’ve felt before and…I’m sorry, but reality isn’t going to live up to those expectations,” Maggie bluntly declared. It was a simple fact, and they had to confront it head on. “I mean, are you sure you want to be with me, or do you want to be with an idealised version of me that only exists in your head?”

 

“With you,” Alex answered without the slightest delay, as if that shouldn’t have even been a question. “Yeah, I know it’s only been a couple of weeks since we met, but isn’t that the whole point of dating someone? That you want to spend more time with them and get to know them better, because you like them?”

 

“That’s great, in theory. But why don’t you go back to the bar and ask the women there how many of them I’ve dated, or know someone I’ve dated? Then ask how many of them wish they hadn’t,” Maggie pointed out, dispelling whatever deceptive illusion Alex was under that made being with Maggie sound like some wonderful thing when clearly it hadn’t ever been for her exes in the past.

 

“I’m not them,” Alex insisted, stepping closer to her, imploring Maggie to give her a chance, desperate to convince her that this was different.

 

“No, you’re not. That’s why I don’t want to risk screwing things up with you like I did with everyone else,” Maggie admitted. Alex visibly deflated at those words, quietly crushed. Maggie’s chest tightened, wishing she wasn’t so damn observant, and that she couldn’t see the pain in Alex’s eyes. “I care about you too much to be the jerk who wrecked your first real relationship. I don’t want to be the ex who leaves you messed up and unhappy and plagued with insecurities that get between you and every other woman you’ll ever be with.”

 

“…Oddly specific,” Alex commented, though her dry remark didn’t mask the sheen of repressed tears gathering in her eyes, having been forced to face rejection all over again. It was a duller anguish this time, but it was there.

 

“Yeah, it comes from experience,” said Maggie, not messing around with facts. “It’s not just that I’ve been openly gay longer than you, it’s that I can recognise a pattern, and my pattern is that I’m a serial dater. And not by choice,” Maggie stated without a caveat. “Every single girl I’ve been with thinks I’m an unfeeling asshole who neglected them emotionally and, you know, they’re probably right. They can’t all be lying, can they? Is that really what you want?”

 

Alex didn’t answer right away, not sure what to make of that. Her pause strengthened Maggie’s resolve. Of course, Alex’s feelings were premised on a limited vision of what she was actually like. The more she got to know her, the more they would fade. That meant Maggie hadn’t erred in her judgement.

 

Letting her down gently like this was the correct call. Eventually, Alex would come to see that, and realise she’d dodged a bullet by not being with Maggie.

 

It didn’t feel like it now, obviously, but it was for the best in the long run.

 

“Look, I mean, the fact of the matter is that it’s easy to say you’re prepared for a relationship in the abstract. People say that all the time. Finding out what that relationship actually entails is a different kettle of fish,” Maggie told her, being frank with her own faults. “As it stands, you’re going to be disappointed with me, and I can’t date you when I know that’s the case.”

 

“…You know, you could just not be that asshole anymore,” Alex suggested, her emotions creeping to the surface and into her voice, making it waver, though she tried to keep her face blank, if only to preserve some dignity.

 

“Tell me how,” Maggie invited her, more than willing to take any sound advice that would break this vicious cycle. “Because I’m out of ideas.”

 

“Jesus, Maggie.” Alex’s expression shifted abruptly following that, almost like she pitied her for it. “I know your ex got pretty nasty towards you when you broke up, and I get that maybe I pushed for you to be with me way too soon after that, but you don’t have to believe her. She only said those things to hurt you.”

 

“See, that’s the thing; it wouldn’t hurt if there wasn’t any truth to it,” Maggie replied with a sombre smile. It carried no joy, just acknowledgement. “I don’t even know what it is that I do that wrecks my relationships so much, other than just being me.”

 

“So, what? We shouldn’t even try?” Alex challenged, finding it harder and harder to speak without losing her grip on her composure. “I’m not pretending you couldn’t be right; maybe things won’t work out between us. Maybe we’d decide we’re better as friends after our first date. Maybe we’d fight and break up after…months. Who can say? Do you think I couldn’t handle that like an adult? Are you really going to assume the worst and avoid finding out?”

 

“For you, yeah,” Maggie answered plainly, that decision already squarely made. Alex was momentarily thrown by her response, not sure what that implied. “I like you, Danvers. You deserve better than that. Especially when we’d just be rushing into something you might not even be ready for.”

 

Alex softened, though not entirely. “You know how much I like you too, but…No offence, but if you really believe this stuff you’re telling me about yourself, that you’re some horrible person and that you need to protect me from learning what it’s like to be with you, then that’s one of saddest things I’ve ever heard in my life,” Alex mumbled, her thumb wiping away drops of moisture caught in her eyelashes. “And this is coming from me, Sawyer; I’m pretty freakin’ pathetic.”

 

“Danvers…” Maggie moved to console her but Alex raised a hand to stop her.

 

“It’s okay. Like I said before, I’m not mad at you. And I don’t want to cut you out of my life over this. But I think I’m not the only one who needs to figure herself out,” Alex said with pointed purpose, sniffling back her sorrow.

 

Maggie didn’t deny that statement, because Alex wasn’t wrong. She did need to figure stuff out. However, she cared too much about Alex to be the one she used to do that. She deserved more than to be an experiment when Maggie couldn’t trust herself not to keep on breaking everything she touched.

 

“Are we good?” asked Maggie, hoping she’d resolved things between them, if only partially. She didn’t want to endure that suffocating silence again.

 

Alex glanced aside, shrugging her shoulders. “Give me a couple of days,” she said, still pained by rejection, and evidently not yet ready to return to the way things were before this. There was more healing that had to be done first.

 

“…Okay,” Maggie agreed, respecting that. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a twinge of disappointment at that reply, but this wasn’t about her feelings. Alex had to come first. Maggie didn’t get to be selfish when she was the one who’d caused her this heartache. At least she knew Alex wanted to maintain their friendship, even if she wasn’t in the right headspace to have it back yet.

 

That was all Maggie had wanted to achieve by confronting Alex face-to-face. So, receiving confirmation that their friendship might be salvageable in a few days was a victory, on her end. Or it should have felt like it. Except it didn’t.

 

Why didn’t it, though?

 

“I should go,” Maggie announced, gesturing towards the door. “I won’t bother you like I did before,” she promised, adopting her typical, laid-back demeanour. Now that they’d spoken properly and Alex had actually requested time alone, she had no reason to bombard her with texts anymore. “Thanks for talking to me.”

 

“Maggie,” Alex’s voice stopped her just as she headed for the door, prompting her to turn back, open to whatever she had to say. “…Is there any chance at all?” Alex asked, because she had to know. She had to hope that, maybe someday, Maggie might be willing to reconsider. “I mean, if I could prove to you that what I feel is real and…grounded and not just me projecting my entire sexual identity crisis onto you…would you say yes to me?”

 

Maggie slid her hands into her pockets once more, letting her head fall back momentarily. “I don’t know, Danvers,” she admitted, without any pretence that she could give a definitive reply one way or the other. “I can’t predict that far ahead. You may not even want this by then.”

 

“No, I will,” Alex assured her without a shadow of uncertainty, looking Maggie dead in the eyes, her gaze unfaltering. “Does that scare you?”

 

Maggie looked at Alex without breaking eye-contact, but didn’t respond. It couldn’t scare her when she didn’t even believe it. Every woman she’d ever been with had professed to have powerful feelings for her at the start. That hadn’t stopped things from going up in flames by the end. It always wore off.

 

“Because I have to tell you, if you just didn’t like me that way, that would be one thing. It was rough, but I was coming to terms with it,” Alex continued, folding her arms across her chest. “But what am I supposed to do now? Just wait until some future moment when you may or may not change your mind and decide you might be willing to take a shot in the dark and try being with me?”

 

“No.” Maggie firmly shook her head, rejecting that notion. “That’s not what I want for you. I want you to be free to explore who you are and—“

 

“And what? Meet a nice girl who makes me happy?” Alex curtly cut her off. “I did: you.” Maggie didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or claw her own forehead in exasperation. Her body instinctively leaned towards the former. It was like every single word she’d said had fallen on deaf ears. “What’s so funny?”

 

“I’m the first lesbian you’ve met,” Maggie pointed out. She didn’t mean to sound dismissive of Alex’s feelings, because they were obviously real to her, but they could nevertheless be attributable to context. “You have nothing to compare me to. Maybe if you met some other women, you’d realise I’m not that special.”

 

“How can I think about other women when I know you’re still an option?” Alex countered, redness colouring the edges of her eyes. “In the back of my mind, I’ll always be holding onto you, waiting for the day you say yes to me.”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” said Maggie, gesturing for emphasis, starting to get a little more worked up, because somewhere down the line this conversation had taken a sharp turn. This wasn’t going the way she’d planned it. Maybe because she hadn’t planned it nearly as well as she ought to have. “I’m not the person you seem to think I am. That’s why I can’t be an option.”

 

“You don’t know what I think about you,” Alex interjected, getting sick of being spoken for instead of being allowed to speak for herself. “All I know is that you’re smart and you’re funny and…I’ve never felt better than when I’m around you. I spend every day just…looking forward to the time I spend with you,” she confessed, meaning every word. “How can this be wrong?”

 

“Because you don’t know how quickly those thoughts seem to change whenever a woman actually dates me,” Maggie self-deprecatingly retorted. She wished that wasn’t the case, but it was. Alex stared at her intently, but her eyes were unreadable. Her chest rose and fell with every breath. “And, yeah, I feel great being around you too, so…why compromise that?” Maggie asked, begging Alex to let go of this idea and move on. “Why not feel great together as friends?”

 

Alex held her gaze, focusing on her. The tumult of emotions still bubbled beneath her surface, but it was getting more and more subdued. If anything, she was starting to look like the Alex Danvers Maggie had seen in full agent mode, when she was concentrating on solving a case of the utmost gravity.

 

“…Just answer me one question,” Alex began, lifting her index finger. Her voice was softer, but resounded with purpose. “If you answer no, I’ll drop this subject once and for all. I promise.” Maggie didn’t really know if she trusted that, but she signalled for Alex to ask away. Denying her request wouldn’t have been fair. “Did you feel anything at all when we kissed?” she asked bluntly.

 

Maggie turned her head aside, releasing a short, dismissive exhale. “Danvers…”

 

“Just say no, if you didn’t,” Alex urged, quiet but persistent. There were tears in her eyes, lingering without falling. More than anything, she needed to know whether Maggie felt something for her, beyond friendship. She yearned for a concrete answer. But Maggie wasn’t able to give her one.

 

“It’s not about that,” Maggie somewhat weakly dodged the question, wishing she didn’t have to keep explaining that this wasn’t based on a lack of attraction, or anything being 'wrong’ with Alex as a potential partner. It wasn’t. Like she kept telling her, it simply wasn’t a good idea. Why couldn’t Alex see that?

 

“So you did?” Alex pressed, refusing to let it go. “Just tell me no and I’ll…” She trailed off, her irises shimmering with a layer of unshed inner turmoil.

 

Maggie stood there in silence. Part of her wanted to lie and say no, purely to make letting go of her feelings easier for Alex, so she didn’t keep fixating on Maggie and these false expectations of what being with her would entail. But she couldn’t force the words out. Maybe it would have been kinder if she’d done it, but she couldn’t bring herself to willingly break Alex’s heart again.

 

Following Maggie’s long hesitation, Alex cracked a tearful smile, and something that sounded almost like a laugh. “Well now I definitely can’t fall for anyone else.”

 

“God damn it, Danvers…” Maggie muttered under her breath, shaking her head. But she wasn’t mad at Alex at all. Her frustration was aimed purely at herself. She’d come here to ensure she’d let Alex down gently. Instead, Maggie had gone straight back to inadvertently leading her on.

 

“Sorry, but it’s true,” Alex acknowledged.

 

“You should,” Maggie replied, not at all pleased with the thought of Alex continuing to pine after her when she ought to have been living her own life.

 

How had this well-intentioned goal backfired so horribly?

 

“Don’t get me wrong.” Alex raised a hand to dispel whatever impressions Maggie might be getting. “I’m not going to push for anything. I understand what no means. But I won’t pretend I don’t feel this way about you,” she said, refusing to lie about what her heart desired anymore, whether to herself or anyone else. She’d done that for far too long. “Whether you like it or not, I’m waiting for you.”

 

“Alex…” Maggie cautioned her, but she didn’t get the chance to finish.

 

“But maybe you should think about what you want,” Alex continued, not allowing herself to be interrupted. “Because, for one reason or another, maybe you’ll be right; maybe I won’t wait forever. And it would really suck if we never got to find out if you were wrong, and we could have been happy together.”

 

Maggie frowned. “We are happy. Or we were before all this,” she tentatively reminded her. The whole reason she’d come there was to repair things with Alex. “Doesn’t that count? Because losing that would suck even more.”

 

Upon hearing that, Alex swallowed heavily, as if pushing down that pain in her chest where her heart should have been, suppressing it.

 

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Alex confirmed once she’d summoned the inner strength to do so, raising her line of sight to meet Maggie’s eyes once more. “So, no, you’re not going to lose me, Sawyer. Not as a friend. Not now, anyway; would that I couldn’t, but I still like you too damn much,” Alex admitted, a hint of a bashful blush on her cheeks betraying that she wasn’t wholly kidding.

 

Maggie’s typical smirk returned to her at that remark. It was the closest they’d come to having one of their regular interactions in five days. “Well at least I’m good for something,” she said. Alex managed a chuckle, her tears starting to dry up. It was a relief to see that they both wanted to leave this in a good place. Maggie stepped forward, with a touch of hesitation. “Can I…?” she asked.

 

Alex understood her meaning, giving a vaguely nervous nod. With her consent, Maggie drew her into a hug. She felt tension in Alex’s body, as if she was trying to resist melting into her embrace, but she reciprocated, wrapping her arms around Maggie in return. It was the best she’d felt all week.

 

“I care about you, Alex,” Maggie said honestly, and she couldn’t even claim that it wasn’t in the way Alex wanted her to. At least not entirely. “I can’t promise I’ll ever be great at expressing it, but please don’t take that to mean that I don’t.”

 

“Yeah, I know you do,” Alex acknowledged, still hurt, but healing, gradually. They held their embrace a few seconds longer than either of them ought to have, but neither of them had any complaints. Neither of them wanted it to end any sooner than it absolutely had to. They’d missed this – they’d missed having each other.

 

“I promise I’m not going to kiss you when you pull away this time,” Alex shyly broke the silence with that self-effacing joke, trying to make light of it.

 

“Okay. Good to know.” Maggie couldn’t help but laugh as she withdrew from the hug, glad to see that they were making progress. That was all she could have asked for. “When you’re ready to hang out, give me a call; I’ll be there. Besides, I’ve been practising and I’m pretty sure I can kick your ass in pool now.”

 

Alex snorted like she’d just denied all known laws of science. “What? Have you been stuck in a time distortion field where a day for me equals a year for you?” she teased, seeing no other way Maggie could have improved that much.

 

“Even your insults are nerdy,” Maggie playfully quipped, amused by that. Alex rolled her eyes, but lost none of the fondness in her features as she watched Maggie head for the door. “I’ll see you later, Danvers.”

 

“Yeah, later,” Alex confirmed, watching Maggie go. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

 

“Back at you,” Maggie replied, taking her leave.

 

Once Maggie clicked the door shut behind her, she paused out there in the hallway, unable to help but reflect on some of the things Alex had said, as well as her own words as their conversation took root in her memories. On the one hand, she’d accomplished her goal of rekindling their friendship and reopening the lines of communication between them. On the other, she’d said a lot that maybe she shouldn’t have.

 

Maggie exhaled and ran a hand through her hair. Perhaps she’d erred by coming there. She’d let her feelings for Alex drive her to go and speak to her unprepared, instead of keeping her distance until the situation cooled down on its own. Even though she’d thought she was doing the right thing by being honest, it had opened a can of worms that Maggie could never close again.

 

Now Alex was certain that there had been a spark between them when they kissed – a temptation for Maggie to resist, rather than a simple absence of mutual chemistry. That complicated things. And Alex had been right; instead of prompting her to move on, that would only spur her to hold onto her feelings, which was the exact opposite of what she needed.

 

It wasn’t that Maggie was inherently closed off to the idea of ever being with Alex. At least, Maggie didn’t think she was. Someday, it might be plausible. But she just wasn’t willing to sacrifice their friendship for what clearly wasn’t a good idea, which her own arguments proved it definitely was not at this point in time.

 

All Maggie needed from Alex was friendship. Their connection was special like that. They weren’t missing anything by keeping it platonic. It didn’t become any less meaningful by not making it sexual or romantic. Having Alex in her life was the important thing. It was certainly preferable to losing her altogether.

 

…So how come talking to Alex and restoring their friendship hadn’t done anything to quell that hollow feeling that had been growing in Maggie’s heart over these past few days she’d spent without her?

 

Why did it still feel as though something was missing?

 

Part of Maggie pondered what would happen if she stopped doing the noble thing. If she pushed open that door and stepped back inside. Maggie wondered if the same sensations that had swept through her when Alex’s lips had touched her own would ripple through her all over again if she dared to march up to her and kiss her. She knew Alex would reciprocate without a second thought.

 

But that was wrong. She couldn’t do that. Or, rather, she shouldn’t.

 

Maggie wasn’t going to lie to herself and pretend there was no voice in the back of her mind telling her to surrender to that craving. But, if she did, then what would happen? What came after that? Once Maggie crossed that line, it couldn’t be undone. And what if all of her fears proved prescient? What if she was right and Alex was wrong? Was it worth rolling the dice and gambling with Alex’s heart purely for the sake of temporary pleasure and fleeting satisfaction?

 

No. She had to be smart about this. It was up to Maggie to be sensible and do the unselfish thing, rather than take the easy road and be careless with Alex’s feelings. Alex thought she was in love with her. Hell, she was, for now. But what were the chances she would still want Maggie in another month or two?

 

After a brief moment, Maggie shook her head, finally walking away, cementing her belief that she had made the right decision, even if it was hard to do.

 

It wasn’t like Maggie was permanently shutting the door on anything she could have had with Alex, right? No. No, that wasn’t her intention. Maybe there was a possibility that the two of them could be together someday, without guilt. Hell, a few months down the road, if Alex was still interested in her, and if Maggie was convinced that they could survive a breakup without destroying their friendship, then sure, perhaps dating wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

 

But, when she thought that far ahead, Maggie still had her reservations. All she could picture in her mind was their relationship ending with Alex saying the same sorts of things her other exes had when they inevitably dumped her.

 

Alex seemed different. Maggie wanted to believe that she wouldn’t be like the rest, and that maybe they actually would click as a couple as well as they did as friends. But, so far, that had never happened. The prospect of losing Alex like she’d lost everyone else loomed in her visions of the future like an ominous cloud. That outcome was simply too painful to risk. This was better. No, this was best.

 

But, if breaking her pattern of past behaviour was unambiguously the right thing to do here, then why did it make Maggie feel so fucking awful to do it?

 

And why was she still thinking about that kiss?

 


End file.
